


The night we met

by limerick_k



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, lots of pining, people making up for their mistakes, there's also a bit of anxiety, they are quite oblivious, wholesome friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24306418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limerick_k/pseuds/limerick_k
Summary: Harry Potter feels as his whole life has already been planned. He finishes Eighth year, and he enrolls in the DMLE as an auror. He gets promoted, then married, and maybe afterwards has a few kids.Draco Malfoy is as lost as one can be.Are midnight encounters, secret parties, and lots of sweets enough to change fate?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	The night we met

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is just some Eighth Year slow burn.
> 
> Keep reading if you like wholesome friendships, lots of stupid pining, and deep midnight conversations.
> 
> Enjoy!

Hermione Granger had always been too curious for her own good. 

When she was only seven years old, she snuck inside her neighbours house, seeking for an ancient mirror. She didn’t know why she did it, she was well aware of the wrongness of it all, but she just couldn’t help it. 

The events took place one boring summer day, after the Browns had left town. She was in the garden, reading a book her mother had bought her the day before, when a flash of light momentarily blinded her. She blinked, and then proceeded to look for the source. Then she saw it. It was a beautiful full-body mirror, its frame embellished gemstones and odd symbols. She was awestruck, so Hermione did what she deemed the best solution: she broke into the Browns’ home. She knew, years later, that she had been able to do so thanks to her magic. 

She kept going back, whenever she could, to look at the mysterious mirror, at least until her neighbours moved out, a year before her Hogwarts letter arrived. They were killed in the war ―theirs was one of the muggle homes that had been attacked by the Death Eaters―, and Hermione sometimes caught herself wondering what had happened to the old mirror.

Being curious was as much her best feature as her fatal flaw. So when the last week of August, along with a _Prophet_ ’s issue, she received a letter with the Malfoys’ family crest plastered in silver, she had no other option than to read it.

_Ms. Granger,_

_We invite you to have tea with us at the Malfoy Manor the 31st of August, at 04:00 pm. We are aware of the awful memories our family home might bring you, therefore the rendezvous will be held at one of our gardens._

_As uncanny as this letter may seem, we truly wish for you to come, and we will be eagerly expecting your reply._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mrs Malfoy_

The handwriting was neat, and it seemed to come out of a victorian movie. The parchment smelled like roses and cinnamon, an odd but endarening combination, and Hermione was standing still in her kitchen, speechless. She shivered. _We will be eagerly expecting your reply._ Lucius was in Azkaban, so it was impossible for him to be at the Manor in August. That meant that, in case that she accepted, she would be having tea with Narcissa _and_ Draco Malfoy. The prospect was frightening, but Hermione had always been a curious person.

It was no surprise, then, when she took a piece of parchment form her room and scribbled a quick reply, sending it only ten minutes afterwards, anticipating the much dreaded appointment.

* * *

Draco Malfoy hadn’t always been _evil_. There used to be a time, before fifth year, when he was plainly mean. 

It wasn’t a secret in Hogwarts that he enjoyed teasing Potter a little too much, but it was only a mix of fun, and resentment, and just _meanness_. At least, up until fifth year. Then, the words were sputtered with hatred, and the satisfaction after the punches that broke Potter’s skin were worth a few broken ribs.

But if in fifth year he irradiated hatred, in sixth year he was blinded by pure and unadulterated rage.

He despised Potter for destroying his life, and he wished for him, the mudblood and the ragtag to root. He wanted them to suffer, at least as much as he had been forced to. He wanted them to endure the pain they had caused him. So he petrified Potter and broke his nose, leaving him laying invisible inside the Hogwarts Express, begging for him to disappear.

Sadly, as it seemed to be the rule in Potter’s life, he got lucky, and appeared at the end of the feast, angrily fuming, with the collar of his shirt stained in red. Draco had smiled at the sight of Potter’s blood. He hadn't known back then that would be his last smile in a long time.

After the fiasco that was the murder of Albus Dumbledore, Draco’s life went downhill. The only thing he recalled from his period at the Manor during the war was unbearable pain, Potter’s green eyes, and Granger’s screams. He couldn’t call her _mudblood_ any longer, not after seeing her being tortured. She didn’t _deserve_ it.

So now he was forcibly waiting for her in the rose garden, all because of his mother’s stubbornness.

Narcissa was anxiously tapping at the table, getting on Draco’s nerves. He couldn’t comprehend how his mother could be so nervous, having in mind all of it had been her idea.

Suddenly, two silhouettes appeared from behind the Manor and a scowl formed in Draco’s face. It was going to be a dire afternoon.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger” his mother smiled politely, pointing at their seats “Would you like anything to accompany the tea? Perhaps scones?”

Weasley nodded and they both sat down. They were as tense as Draco was.

A food tray materialized, along with a teapot. His mother served everyone tea, and Weasley started to cautiously eat a cherry scone, as though he thought it was poisoned. Granger sipped from her teacup while fixedly looking down. He realized she was avoiding both Malfoys’ gaze.

The situation was awkward, to say the least, and the silence prolonged for a few minutes, until a loud crack followed by the apparition of a brief note broke it. Suddenly, his mother sighed and rose from her seat, glancing between her son and their guests. She cleared her throat.

“I’m afraid there are some pressing matters I must attend. Draco, dear, will you be so kind to talk to them of what we have spoken?”

Draco nodded, gritting his teeth. _So that’s what she wanted, huh? To leave me alone with them_. Her mother apologized and left, seemingly unaware of the burning glare his son sent her way.

Once Narcissa disappeared inside the Manor, Draco rubbed his temples, defeated. It was best to end this as quick as possible and go on with his day.

“I am well aware of the strangeness of this situation” he started, not daring to raise his eyes from his plate “This was my mother’s idea, in case _that_ isn’t obvious, and it was supposed to only be Granger.” Weasley sent him a sour look.

“You can’t be so naive to believe Hermione was coming here alone.”

Draco frowned. He, _of course_ , had expected Granger to bring some company. He wasn’t daft.

“I guess I was surprised about you two coming without Potter, I believed you were attached to the hip”

Wesley glowered at him. “We didn’t want to bother him, he is busy with the _trials_ ”.

The trials. 

Weasley was aiming to hurt, the bastard. Flashes of his father screaming empty threats and speaking hoarsely in defeat, and of his mother crying late at night came to Draco, who didn’t reply. He remained very still, hardly breathing.

He could do it. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were never afraid. Never. He only had to spit the words.

With a pained sight he opened his mouth. “You were invited here because I wanted to apologize.”

  
  
  



End file.
